The Child's Atrocity
by Fluff
Summary: Several years after Hogwarts graduation, Draco and Hermione are horrified to find out that their third-year children are best friends. The worst part (or best, for the author’s plot need)? They’re both single parents.
1. Unpleasant Discovery

Children Know Best

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and related characters and remain are the property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury or Scholastic Books. Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Brothers. No infringement of copyright is intended.

**Summary**: Several years after Hogwarts graduation, Draco and Hermione are horrified to find out that their children are best friends. The worst part (or best, for the author's plot need)? They're both single parents. 

A/N: Yet another fic…but I got the idea, and I just couldn't control the urge to write. So give it a shot.

In the wee hours of the morning, Hermione Granger dressed in her Mediwitch robes and walked tiredly down to the small kitchen of her tiny London flat for a cup of much needed coffee. Lately her job had been rather stressful; she had been promoted from a simple healer to the spokeswoman for the entire operation. She enjoyed her new job, as she visited wizard schools all over the world in hopes of recruiting some seventh years (or seniors, or finishing school graduates) into the wonderful world of healing. 

Today she was particularly excited. Today, she would visit her favorite school of the lot—Hogwarts. Whenever Hermione thought of Hogwarts a simple smile played on her lips and she was immediately immersed in all the good memories. Of course, there was the offhanded bit about Voldemort and Snape and Malfoy and all those other school obstacles that everyone dealt with, but for the most part, Hogwarts had been a rather happy time.

Not only was she about to make an interesting trip to Hogwarts, she was also going to see the pride of her life. She had been both disappointed and pleased when she had learned that he had the second-highest marks ever during his first year of Hogwarts, because the only marks he hadn't been able to beat were her own. Hermione smiled thoughtfully as she thought of her son, Chase Granger, now in his third year at Hogwarts. It had been rather disheartening that he hadn't made very many friends in his first and second year (she knew he was a bit bossy, but honestly, weren't there any Harry and Ron types out there that would see past that tiny barrier?) but Hermione hoped that when she saw him later today, at the point where he was half-way through third year, he would have at least someone to go around with.

He was her son after all, and Grangers were the type of people that had the win-win motto. He could do it. She'd make him do it. He just had to push himself, work a little bit harder, and he would have everything perfect in his life.

Hermione couldn't understand why Harry and Ron, his godfathers, said she pushed the poor kid a little too hard. She wasn't one of those controlling, perfectionist mothers, was she?

All right, well maybe a little bit. 

Hermione finished up coffee and straightened out her conservative blouse before Flooing herself into Hogwarts. Unfortunately the ride was not as smooth as she wished; due to her excitement, she accidentally ended up sprawled across Professor Dumbledore's office and Fawkes glared at her quite prudishly. Grinning sheepishly, she hastily got up and brushed off imaginary pieces of dirt. Hermione prided herself on always being best at everything, and appearances mattered, to some degree.

That didn't mean that her hair wasn't long and frizzy (well, relatively less, because of the length, but it still slightly resembled a cat's coughed up hairball) and that she only wore make-up on very special occasions. That didn't mean that her clothes weren't relatively conservative and it certainly didn't mean that she was a soccer mom, heaven forbid.

Before she could have any more thoughts, Professor Dumbledore was greeting her warmly. "Miss Granger, what a pleasure," he said. Hermione smiled brightly, happy to see her old headmaster, who looked rather healthy although undoubtedly had grown much older since Hermione's time at Hogwarts. "It's been a while," he said and Hermione nodded. "Yes. Twenty years since I graduated, at least," and the two of them were amazed at the extraordinary lapse of time and how quickly it had seemed to go by.

"All right, then, shall I give my talk to the seventh years?" Hermione began briskly. 

"Lovely. But I do sense you want to meet a certain third year before you do so?" Professor Dumbledore said, with those clichéd and expected twinkling eyes.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "I think it's nearly breakfast time, isn't it? I'll meet with him then, I don't want him missing any classes, he should pay proper attention, especially in Potions and Transfiguration, and I made him take Arithmancy so he must liste—"

Professor Dumbledore cut her off gently. "Breakfast sounds fine. Why don't you go meet him at the Ravenclaw table? I believe you know where it is?"

Hermione nodded and made her way out of the Professor's office and into the Great Hall. She'd been a little surprised when she'd received his Owl that he had been sorted into Ravenclaw—she'd been expecting Gryffindor, after all—but no matter, he was a smart boy, and cunning too. Unfortunately, he'd also informed her that Gryffindor hadn't even been on the Sorting Hat's agenda…apparently the Sorting Hat had had a difficult time choosing between Ravenclaw and _Slytherin_ of all things; thankfully, the choosy hat had picked Ravenclaw. Hermione shuddered. She loved Chase, but having him in Slytherin would be rather odd, to say in the least.

Her heart filled with warmth when she located her son amid the chaos, and it leapt even more so when she realized he was talking quite animatedly with a blonde girl who looked to be about his age. Had he made friends then? How lovely!

Before going up to him, Hermione simply studied her son. She was selfishly pleased that he had inherited more of her traits than his father's, her ex-husband Viktor Krum. She had made the biggest mistake of her life marrying the grumpy git; he was just too moody and she had finally called it off four years ago. Chase had his mother's brown eyes but his father's black hair, and Hermione noted gleefully that both the shape of his nose and lips were that of hers. Hah, she thought childishly, I beat you, Viktor.  

"Chase," she called breathlessly as she made her way over to him. "Hello, sweetie," she said, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Mum!" he replied, looking mortified and pulling his hand away. Hermione quickly withdrew her hand as well. She had promised that she would never become one of those embarrassing mothers that did just about everything to have their children die socially, and here she was, fueling along the process.

"Sorry," she said, giving him a smile. "I'm here to give the talks to the seventh years. Isn't that lovely? I thought I'd stop by."

Chase, the affectionate child that he was, quickly forgave his mother. The blonde girl next to him laughed. "Chase, you're such a pansy," she teased. 

Hermione beamed. Was her son finally making friends? "And who is this?" she asked, smiling at the pretty young girl.

Chase grinned. "Mum, meet my best friend—"

The girl cut him off. "It's a pleasure, Ms. Granger. I'm Ivy Malfoy."

Hermione's smile faded and she felt weak. "Ah," she said intelligently. She felt herself pale at the very thought…her son…mingling…no, friends…was it _best friends_ he had said…with a Malfoy? Oh, blimey, that wasn't good…but maybe she wasn't really the daughter of that prat she went to school with; Malfoy had cousins, after all… "Ivy. What a pretty name," she found herself saying monotonously. "Perhaps I knew your parents?"

"Oh, did you?" the girl asked, her eyes gleaming excitedly. "Well I live with my dad, Draco Malfoy, but my mum was…" But Hermione had stopped listening, somewhere between Draco and Malfoy. Who could imagine that stupid bloke having _children_? And of course Hermione's dirty side took over and she felt herself blushing at the process of conceiving a child. 

"Mum?" Chase was asking. "You alright?"

Malfoy had a kid…oh, hell, Malfoy had a kid…oh hell, she was _best friends_ with Chase…oh hell.

A/N: Now, before everyone asks me why this is in humor, let me explain. While I don't intend it to be laugh-laugh funny like The Bachelor or Ember's Island, I'm going for lighthearted versus dramatic and heavy. But I will try and put in some laugh moments, sooner or later…like next chapter, when we see Draco's side…and how exactly he deals with a teenage daughter. Snicker. Expect updates soon, when I start a story I always update it in a mad frenzy before leaving it to rot for a bit. Reviews help influence the quickness of updates. 

Please Review! I want to know how the first chapter turned out. If it stunk, then I really shouldn't continue. But let me know. 


	2. Good Old Friends

Children Know Best 2

A/N: Title has been changed! Now called The Child's Atrocity. Also, Chase's dad is Viktor Krum (I did say this last chapter but one person missed it so I'm clearing it up).

Draco Malfoy grabbed his coat, cursing as he glanced at the charmed clock in the foyer. "Erwin!" he shrieked as he struggled into the coat. "Why in the hell did you not tell me it was eleven a.m.?"

Erwin appeared quite magically. "I'm sorry sir. I was under the impression that you were aware that you had an important business meeting at 11 a.m."

"Can you for once not speak like a newspaper? Honestly! You are the worst butler, worse than a house elf! You're fired!"

Slamming the door behind him, Draco walked down to his corporate headquarters in the cold London air, fuming angrily. This was the fourth butler he'd gone through in the last six months. Gods. Every time Ivy left for Hogwarts the butler problem got worse. He wondered briefly if his short temper was due to missing Ivy. Draco smiled. Of course, having a daughter—and a _teenage_ daughter at that—was very, very difficult and sometimes he absolutely wished he could find an aging device and bump her up to twenty, but for the most part, it was rather…different. In a good sort of way.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he took off his coat as he entered the building, wondering why exactly he hadn't apparated. Oh well. It wasn't as if he had the right state of mind at a time like this.

"Greswald!" he snapped at a middle aged man with a potbelly holding a large cup of coffee. "Where the hell is the Delcarius meeting?"

"Room 388, sir."

Draco cursed and ran wildly towards the room, arriving out of breath. Although he was the president of the company it didn't mean that it was acceptable for him to walk in thirty blazing minutes late for the most important meeting of the year. The Delcarius meeting, named in honor of Lisa Turpin's father. He hated Lisa. Why in bloody hell he didn't change the meeting name he didn't know. 

Draco entered the room, out of breath and scanned it to make sure all his top employees were there. They were. "I am sorry I was a little late," Draco started, looking coldly around the room. "But my reasons were sound and I am sure none of you will dare question what they are?" His voice was crisp, laconic, and extremely powerful. Rumor was that nobody could break that harshness except for his daughter. The employees were scared out of their minds. They didn't say a word. Bugger, he could be on a trip to the Bahamas and they wouldn't care—as long as he asserted his authority. 

"What's on the agenda?" Draco finally asked as nobody in the room spoke up.

Timidly his secretary spoke up. "Er, the wizard stock market and how Naswiz has fallen rapidly since yesterday."

Draco nodded but in truth he was not very capable of grasping the inner workings of the complicated wizard stock market, the WSM for short. He was in fact the President of the Corporate Headquarters of WSM, and the only reason he was there was because he was so manipulative. Stocks bored him, actually. For the rest of the meeting he zoned out and thought about how his daughter was coming home tomorrow, from her third year at Hogwarts. He hadn't spoken to her for a bit but in her last letter she had mentioned a new best friend, named something or the other. He couldn't really remember. 

----------------------------------------------------

Hermione was very excited, and whenever she was excited, she had to spend money to finally feel at ease. Tomorrow Chase was coming home—she hadn't seen him since she'd met him over four months ago at the seventh years recruitment talk. Happily, she apparated all the way to Hogsmeade's extremely famous sweets store, Honeyduke's, and picked up anything she thought Chase might be interested in. As she watched her galleons being swallowed greedily by the clerk, she finally reached her nirvana. Ahh, she thought happily, I can't wait.

-----------------------------------------------------

Draco waited impatiently at King's Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾, for the Hogwarts Express to arrive. Honestly, he thought angrily to himself, the damned train had gotten _slower_ since his time at Hogwarts! Finally the train pulled into the station and the noise level escalated quite grandly. He scanned the crowd, looking around for a bobbing head of light blonde hair, finally locating it bobbing right alongside a boy with black hair, reminding him distastefully of Harry Potter, whom he had had the privilege of _not_ seeing for the last eleven years. Life was going well.

Ivy Malfoy burst through the crowd and smiled broadly at her father. "Daddy!" she called out, using the term of endearment that had always embarrassed him to the hilt. Nevertheless, he handled it well.

"Ivy!" he responded with just as much eagerness as the girl flew into his arms. As she pulled apart she dragged up a boy that looked about her age. 

"Daddy, this is my best friend, Chase."

Draco surveyed the boy with his eyes. As a father of a teenage daughter, he was very, very scrupulous about who he let his child mingle with. "Your best friend is a boy?" Draco asked nervously. He'd thought thirteen was a bit young to give her the little boys-will-be-boys-don't-sleep-around-please talk that he'd been planning on, but maybe he'd been wrong…

"Don't worry, Dad," Ivy said with a small smirk (inherited from her father, of course). "The relationship's purely platonic."

Draco visibly relaxed and took in the boy's features more softly. There was something very familiar about him, but he couldn't place it. Perhaps it was déjà vu or something. Whatever. Draco wasn't one for intense curiosity, but nonetheless, he decided to ask him anyway.

"So, what is your name again?" he asked coldly. He couldn't help it, but he was 'disgustingly protective' of his daughter, as she so aptly put it (once when he wouldn't let her play Quidditch with their next door neighbor's sixteen-year-old son. As if!).

"Chase. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," the boy said politely, holding out his hand. Draco's opinion of the boy increased slightly as he took his hand. At least his parents had taught him manners.

"And who are your parents?" he asked casually, his interest piqued. 

"Oh, they're—" he was cut off by the arrival of presumably his mother. Draco hadn't turned around to see her but he could hear the voice behind him.

"There you are! Chase, I've been look—oh."

Surprised, Draco turned around and had to fight very hard not to let his jaw drop with utter surprise. Oh was right. Oh.

The frazzled witch standing in front of him was very short, with big brown eyes and long, curly hair that was a bit frizzy. She was wearing a set of stylish but conservative aquamarine robes and slightly heeled blue shoes. Oh. 

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Chase and Ivy decided to break the silence, apparently, since the two of them looked at their parents and decided something was very, very wrong.

"Mum?" Chase asked, as Ivy asked "Dad?" at the same time.

"What is it?" Hermione said, tearing her gaze away from the bastard that haunted her school days and stared down at her son.

"What is it?" Draco said, tearing his gaze away from the annoying know-it-all bookworm who had bothered him in his school days and stared down at his daughter. 

"Why are you behaving like this?" Ivy said, pouting in a way (Hermione noted) very similar to her father's and putting her hands on her hips.

Hermione was the first to come out of her stupor. "I'm sorry," she told the children. "I was just surprised to see…your father. I haven't seen him in a long time."

Draco eyed her. The situation was ten-fold more unpleasant for him; he had not been aware of the fact that his child was best friends (best friends, did she say?) with the son of one of his mortal enemies from school. "Hello," he finally managed. There was no need to be rude, after all. It was going to be a three-minute encounter, tops. Then he would grab his child and go home and never see Granger again. End of story.

But even the best-laid plans can go wrong.

"Daddy," Ivy said seriously. "I've invited Chase to come spend half of summer holidays with us."

Draco and Hermione looked at each other with utmost horror. How exactly were they going to inform their children that that was and would never be possible?

As if Chase and Ivy had sensed the tension between the two parents, identical tantrums started on cue.

"_Not fair!_" Ivy whined. "You never let me do _anything_!"

"Mum you were always like, why can't I go to a friend's house for summer and now that I want to you're not going to let me!" Chase screamed. "That's not fair! You're so hypocritical!"

"Dad!" Ivy yelled. "You always said I could have anyone over for break anytime I wanted and now that I want to take you up on the offer you cancel? Some dad you are!"

She stormed off, dragging Chase along with her, who called out over his shoulder. "Same to you mum! _I hate you!_"

Now in her thirteen years of parenting, Hermione had never been told "I hate you" by her son. Something had to be done. Looking up at Malfoy, Hermione could tell he felt the same way.

"Granger," Draco growled. "Your son is 'best friends' with my daughter?"

"Apparently, Malfoy," she answered coldly. "Why don't you contact your wife and ask her if it's okay for your daughter to come spend the summer holidays with us?" she asked quite sarcastically.

Malfoy seemed to seize up for a second before answering her. "If you must know, I am _not_ married," he replied callously. "Ivy's mother walked out on the family when Ivy was a month old."

Hermione shut her mouth furiously and felt a wave of pity wash over her. That was terrible. "Who was she?" she asked, before she could stop herself.

"Lisa Turpin."

"That girl from Ravenclaw? How in hell did you meet her?"

"It's a long story and I am not about to tell you it, Granger. This is the first time I have seen you in eleven years—you, Potter, or Weasley—and I'm not too pleased about it."

"Neither am I, Malfoy, but apparently we don't have a choice. Our children seem to have inherited our stubborn streaks."

Draco sighed. She was right. "So," he asked dully. "my house or yours?"

From behind a horde of people, eavesdroppers Chase Granger and Ivy Malfoy sniggered.

A/N: Whew, that's done with. Next chapter is more Draco and Ivy interaction. And whose house. And all that other stuff. Anyway, **star**-you asked me to write you a note at the end of the chapter, here it is. Thanks for reviewing the story! Tell me what you think of this chapter as well. **Eventuality**- hope your question was answered, Ivy's mother was from Ravenclaw and that's why she's not as mean, also, she's got a different personality from her dad, but she will have her moments. Thanks to everyone who reviewed-please review this chapter as well! 


	3. Teenagers!

The Child's Atrocity 3

A/N#1: LilbLueangeL1223: No, Viktor Krum is alive. Could you please tell me what gave you the impression that he was dead, so that I can fix it? Thanks!

Hermione chose not to answer her ex-nemesis's question. "We'll discuss this later," she said coldly, throwing a furtive glance at the children, who were quite blatantly eavesdropping. 

Draco saw this too. He made a mental note to teach Ivy a few things when he got home: to not eavesdrop, as what the regular, goody-goody parent that he most certainly was (well, maybe) would do, and the vital lesson of if-you're-going-to-eavesdrop-you-might-as-well-do-it-properly. The Art of Eavesdropping 101. How could she not know it? She was already thirteen! But in response to Granger's question, he agreed thoroughly. Maybe they could keep putting it off until the summer was over. "Yes. _Do_ give me a floo," he replied insincerely.

Hermione nodded briskly. "Of _course_ I will," she said acidly. "I'm sure Chase and your daughter will have a simply _marvelous_ time." The sarcasm was hard to miss, but for two extremely excited children, it was rather easy. Neither noticed that although their parents were being disgustingly polite it was only a façade to hide the not-so-pleasant feelings between them.

Grabbing his daughter, Draco headed off, not casting a single glance behind. He could not believe his rotten, rotten luck. Perhaps it was all a phase. Children went through so many of them. Children loved phases. Maybe she knew of the past between Granger and himself and was doing this solely to torment him. He'd read somewhere that teenage daughters truly enjoyed giving their parents anguish. Maybe she was doing that. Well, goddamn it, she was succeeding. 

Hermione sighed exaggeratedly as she and Chase entered their smallish but still expensive and light, pretty home. Chase of course had to go round and say hello to the two cats, the cook, and his nanny, who had been re-hired for the summer. Although Hermione doubted she'd use her much after all considering Chase was talking about all this spending-time-with-Ivy nonsense. 

As soon as Chase was done, he demanded something to eat. Actually, 'something' was putting it rather lightly. Chase was a teenage boy with a ravenous appetite. He could eat anything, anytime, anywhere. Every time Hermione looked at him she was fondly reminded of Ron Weasley. All the times that used to repulse her now had been reduced to happy memories. It was actually quite amazing what a mother's blind love can do. When Chase had polished off two ham and cheese sandwiches, a separate platter of chips, and at Hermione's insistence, an apple, Hermione brought in the topic of school.

"So, darling, how was the school year?" Hermione asked pleasantly.

"Good," Chase replied off-handedly. 

Hermione sighed again. Chase's answers were always so laconic. Would it be life-threatening if he just told her what the teachers had taught or how much he studied for those difficult Transfiguration exams? "Care to expand on that?" she asked lightly.

Chase grinned. "Not particularly."

She groaned. Since when had her little boy grown up to be so _annoying_? Controlling her quick to rise temper she answered half-jokingly and half-seriously, "Now tell me how school was before I hex your new posters off."

  
Chase pouted. "Mum, you know how much I love the Witch Brothers! Their music is completely cat."

Cat? Was that one of those teenage words that were exclusive to the age-group. Hermione hated the fact she'd grown so old! "Cat? Is that the 'in' word this year? How cool," she said flashing him a grin.

Chase was apparently far from pleased about her attempt to act sly with the words. "Mother," he said seriously, "you must never, ever say 'in' word or 'cool'. Please. Don't try to act young. You're too old for that."

Shocked at his brazenness, Hermione chalked it up to the fact that he must have learned this speaking-back tactic, something she would never have done (well, maybe a little…okay, maybe a lot) from his new friend, that Ivy Malfoy. "All right then," she said wearily.

"And by the way," he continued. "Cat is not some cool word that _interesting_ people use these days. It's short for catastrophic." At Hermione's puzzled look he continued, "Catastrophic? Come on mum, haven't you _ever_ heard catastrophic music? It's loud and raunchy, and very appealing."

"Don't play that garbage in my home," Hermione said crossly as Chase went up to his room. Gods. Teenagers these days. They were pure torture. 

When the two of them arrived home, Ivy rushed in and greeted all the house-elves with spectacular enthusiasm, something that Draco could not understand. Must be something she'd inherited from Lisa. "Ivy, would you like something to eat?" Draco asked crisply.

"Oh, no. I had quite a bit of chocolate frogs on the train."

"Chocolate frogs?" Draco asked with a small frown. "Darling, you do know that chocolate is bad for your complexion?" He hated to be a picky parent, he really did, but who knew whether or not Lisa had had acne? He himself had not a spot on his face during those rocky teenage years, and by golly, there was no way he was going to let his daughter have those nasty things. He was going to do everything in his power to keep those blasted pimples off his daughter's face, and if it meant going easy on the chocolate frogs, so be it. 

"Oh, dad," she said, rolling her eyes (was it his imagination or was every other word out of her mouth accompanied by the roll of the eyes? He chalked it up to another phase). "It' just a myth."

"It is not," he answered stiffly. But more than anything he just wanted to get off this topic. "So how was the school year?" he asked casually. 

Lucky for him, or maybe not so lucky, depending on one's point of view, Ivy was rather talkative. "Long!" she began excitedly. "In the first week I met Chase. I can't believe I hadn't seen him before; honestly, that boy can blend in so easily! I wish I could do that, makes for an excellent spy trait don't you think? And did you know Sally dyed her hair pink! Can you believe it? And have you seen those new robes? I simply must get some, everyone has them. Chase and I are going to go looking for exotic animals this summer, you know, and oh, did I mention that Bradley shrunk his nose! Yes, he had a special spell performed by a mediwitch and now it's half the size! Oh you should have seen it before, it was absolutely massive…"

Somewhere between the opening of Drooble's Secrets, an exotic lingerie store where "everybody" shopped and the plans to go on a world Quidditch tour, Draco lost her. Sometimes he really wished she talked a little less. Wouldn't a short, crisp answer be so much better?  He smiled and nodded at her blabbering but didn't really hear a word. He was suddenly hit with a wave of love for his daughter and felt, oh dear, was that really tears welling up in his eyes? Gods. He was going soft!

Shaking his head he gave his daughter a frown, as if to hide his feelings. "All right, then. I presume, since you're so excited about it, you had a fairly good year?"

She gave him a huge smile. "Absolutely. And do you know why?"

"Why?" he asked. 

"Because I met Chase! I mean it, Daddy, our personalities click so well! Chase said his mum had a fabulous time at Hogwarts because she was very close to her best friends and I'm sure it'll be that way for Chase and me as well, no?"

But Draco was immersed in deep and dark thoughts. "Potter, Weasley, and Granger," he muttered darkly. 

"Are you talking about Chase's mum's friends? You knew them, did you?" Ivy asked pleasantly.

Draco decided it was time for him to let his daughter in on a little secret. "Now, Ivy," he began placidly. He wasn't much for telling stories, and this was stretching the parental meter he'd steadily built up over the years. "Chase's mother…and I…went to school together, bu—"

"Did you now!" Ivy exclaimed. "Ooh, tell me about that! I didn't know the two of you were friends! That's so fantastic! Oh, Dad, I have an excellent idea, why don—"

Draco cut her off, horrified and repulsed at her words. "No, no, Ivy," he said hurriedly. No more slowly breaking it to her that this whole visiting Granger's kid was not possible, no scratch that, was absolutely and positively out of the question and was never going to happen. "Chase's mum and I were fa—"  
  


Teenage girls have a nasty habit of talking when they please. In fact, Ivy was notorious for it. Ivy cut her father off without slightest regard for manners. "I'm talking!" she wailed. "I just had this beyond wicked idea, Daddy! Please please let me tell you! I'm sure you will love it especially since you knew Ms. Granger in Hogwarts! Daddy!"

  
Draco wanted to slam his head into the nearest wall. _Kids these days_! When he was young, he would never have dared to interrupt his father when the old man was going on and on about some ridiculous topic, join the Death Eaters, work for evil, make all Os…but here Ivy was, plainly stopping Draco from explaining his point. She must have learned it from Granger's child, yes, that was it, she definitely had. Oh, sweet Merlin, perhaps it could wait another few seconds. "Very well," he said wearily. "Proceed."

"You are absolutely going to adore this idea. And it is so, so, so much better than anything we had in mind earlier, I promise," Ivy said excitedly. Draco had a premonition that he was most certainly not going to 'adore this idea'. In fact he was a bit worried that his reaction might be quite the opposite. "Both of us and Chase and his mum can all go vacation in our villa in Spain! It'll be fabulous, you know we go there every year and it's rather boring for me because I have no company. Well you can have company and I can  have company and it will be just dandy! Blimey, never thought I could come up with such a crazy idea! So, what do you say?"

At the moment, Draco couldn't say much anything. Speechlessly and mouth gaping open like a fish, he stared at his daughter, not exactly sure what to feel. But his first thought was that he was truly, truly doomed. 

Ivy was a persistent child, yes, but in this case he could not let her win. Oh no. No way in hell was he spending time vacationing in Spain with Granger and her son! He'd rather sell his soul to the Devil than do such a horrendous act! 

But that wicked gleam in Ivy's eyes, inherited from her father dearest of course, made his stomach flutter with anxiety and he just couldn't get rid of this awful feeling that in some bizarre circumstance, Ivy's 'fabulous' idea was eerily going to enter reality. 

A/N: Well, there we go, another chapter is out. I know, it wasn't very quick, but it wasn't that long of a wait, was it? Well, as usual, I'd really like it if you review, especially as I am not exactly certain what path I'm taking with the story. Thanks! And wow, thanks so much for all of your reviews. They are the best motivation _ever_. 


	4. Consultations With Enemies

The Child's Atrocity 4

A/N: I'm so sorry about the 2 month update, but would you have really wanted like two really crappy updates instead of one good update? And everyone's like, "Yes!" … okay, I'm sorry. I really am. But I have/had major writer's block; let's see what I force out. My muse is mean.

"Don't forget your pajamas," Hermione said crossly, handing him the neatly pressed Snitch Kid Footie Pajamas. He scowled.

"Mum, I wouldn't wear those if you force fed me cooking bourbon," he replied, just as forcefully. It seemed like the kid had inherited the small streak of an awful temper that Hermione had.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What now? You think you're big enough to sleep in boxers and a tee-shirt? It is _cold_ in Bulgaria, and I do not want you coming home with a head cold! Goodness knows your father won't pay you the least bit of attention and you'll be running 'round with a runny nose and he won't even no—"

"Mother," Chase said, eyes flashing. "Please do not badmouth Dad around me. I hate when you guys do that!"

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, Chase," she said sincerely and gave him a loopy grin. "Oh, come here, you!"

Chase grumbled and muttered something that Hermione caught as "I'm too old for this" but he obliged and gave his mum a hug anyway. "Are you happy now?" he asked sullenly, but the frown didn't reach his eyes.

An hour later Hermione and Chase had found some middle-ground clothes and items, although Hermione wasn't very thrilled when Chase told her he was taking his Lightning Bolt. "Dad did not buy me this broom for it to sit and gather dust," he told her seriously. "You wouldn't want this expensive, top of the line broomstick to go to waste, would you? It's better than anyone else's broom in the school because they're so rare and I don't want to be the one responsible for… Oh, I don't know, not using it!"

She rolled her eyes. "Take it, then. But if you lose it then—"

"Then Dad will buy me a new one," Chase said snarkily. Hermione laughed.

"That's true; he'd buy you anything, wouldn't he?"

Chase grinned and shut his suitcase with a flick of a wand. "Right then, I'm off," he said, and Hermione warned him against the dangers of floo.

"I don't want you ending up in Lebanon," she warned. "You must say it very clearly; Viktor's house is hooked up to the floo, okay?"

"Why can't I just apparate?" he whined.

"Because you are not old enough and you don't know how," Hermione reminded.

He shrugged. "Fred and George said they were apparating when they were eight."

"They were definitely lying," she said, enjoying the happy, easy conversation, "They didn't apparate till it was legal."

"Haha, I didn't think I'd hear the words "Fred and George" and "legal" in the same sentence," Chase said with an easy grin and took a pinch of floo.

"Have fun, baby," Hermione said, giving him a hug. "I'll see you in three weeks and tell me when you get there."

"Mum that's like in three minutes."

"I don't care. I need to know if you've arrived safely."

He fabricated a huge moan. "You are so, so, so overprotective." With that, he blew her a kiss and disappeared into the fire.

For a few moments, Hermione just stared at the pretty flames and thought about a period in her life where she would never have dreamed about traveling through fire. She observed the fiery colors and just when she was about to daze off completely Chase's head popped into the flames.

"You scared me!" she accused with a grin.

"Well, you asked me to tell you when I got here, and I'm here," he replied cheekily. "Normally I wouldn't dream of it, but you know, I can't exactly disobey my mother's wishes, can I?"

"Disobey," she snorted. "Where's your father?"

"What, feel like talking to him now?" Chase said half-rudely.

"Don't be rude," Hermione scolded. 

Just then, Viktor himself entered the room and gave Hermione a half-smile. "Hello, Herm-own-ninny," he said gruffly, even though she knew the gruff bits weren't meant to be that way; it was just the way he talked.

"Hello, Viktor," she replied. "Excited to see Chase again?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "Well, keep in touch. We should be friends, should we not?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course—there is no malice behind us, is there?"

With words like those, Viktor and Chase's faces melted into the fire and Hermione was left again in the empty house. She wondered what exactly she was going to do with her three weeks of peace and solitude. She'd debated about going traveling—always pleasant, but she wasn't sure Chase would be thrilled if he found out she'd gone to France or Spain without him. She had finally decided to just wait and see.

Suddenly a loud banging on her door brought her out of her reverie. Intrigued and puzzled, Hermione walked quickly to the door and flung it open. The sight in front of her refused to register.

She gaped open-mouthed at her unexpected visitor.

"Well, don't just stand there and drool," he drawled. "Shove it, Granger. I'm coming in."

"Fuck," she whispered. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm just here for a house-call," he replied sarcastically. "You know, checking up on old enemies, seeing how they're doing, maybe going out to a luncheon or two…"

"Oh, please, come off it," she bit out but eyed him suspiciously. It was never a good thing if Draco Malfoy just decided to out of the blue drop by your house. Especially if you didn't get along with him in the first place.

"Well, Ms. Granger," he said as he entered her 'humble abode', "you could stand to do a lot better—what, didn't beg Vicky for alimony?" 

She growled.

"All right, all right, don't get your knickers in a twist," he said, just plopping down on her favorite couch. Now this action was awfully annoying; that was an expensive (well, maybe not to him, rich little snot!), beautiful, and treasured sofa and she wasn't going to have him break it by just plopping his little arse right down on it.

Before she could say anything, he looked at her enigmatically and asked, "Where are the house-elves? I could use a glass of water right now."

"I don't keep house-elves," she said crisply. "I find it horrid to enslave the poor little creatures."

He groaned. "Still up with that ridiculous S.P.E.W. thing? If I remember correctly even your two pawns didn't support that one."

She fought the urge to throw a pillow at him. She was mature now; in her thirties, but he always brought out the worst in her! Little devil! Or rather, not-so-little, but still, awful devil! "Hold on," she told him, and walked into the kitchen, roughly pulling out a glass. She wondered if she should poison the water, but only briefly; she really could not deal with murder right now. Too much stress. Maybe sometime in the near future, perhaps?

She came out and handed him the water without a word. Without so much as a thank-you, he took it and gingerly sniffed at it.

"Well, it's not like I poisoned it or anything," she said petulantly, a bit miffed—even though the thought had crossed her mind.

"Just checking," he said, "but I guess you don't keep poison round your kitchens. You should see what's in mine."

"I'd really rather not, thank you," she said curtly. "Now why are you here?"

"It's a horrid story," he began melodramatically. "I was lost in the mountains with nothing but snow and biting cold, and then I stumbled upon the first crass little cottage I found—this shack."

"Oh, please. Grow up," she scorned. "Now tell me why you're here or I will kick you out."

"So vicious," he said sarcastically. "I'm terrified. Now, _Hermione_—mind if I call you that?"

"Yes," she snarled.

"Okay, great. Now, _Hermione_, I wouldn't be caught dead here if it were not for my most annoying offspring."

"I thought you loved your offspring," she quipped.

"That is not the point," he said sourly. "I'm telling a story here and I'm going to make it interesting, even if you are the most boring person in existence. Now just sit back and let me spice things up, _Hermione_." 

She sat on her hands just in case she didn't just leap up and strangle him before her brain could register what she was doing.

"So," he began. "My daughter came up with a rather horrid thing a week ago," he said amiably, as if he were talking about the warm weather. 

"Do go on," she barked.

"So, Ivy and I like to spend part of our summers in this wonderful little Spanish villa we've got. It's absolutely gorgeous; near Madrid but in a more suburb-ish area, eh?"

"And you're telling me this because…" she egged on. 

"Just hush and listen will you, woman?" he yelled. "Honestly. You reply to everything I say," he glared at her.

She didn't say a word.

His eyes grew huge with anger but he swallowed and let it go, it seemed. "Anyhow, so Ivy dear wanted to spend some of her summer with your son, despicable as this little friendship is. Thus I am here to … cordially invite your son to come on vacation with my daughter and me."

Out of all the things Hermione had even bothered to expect, this was most certainly not one of them. "Really?" she asked skeptically. "You came here to ask me that?"

He nodded. "I'm sure the poor lad doesn't get to go on very many vacations, so shouldn't this be a bit of a treat?"

Hermione did not get angry, merely flashed Draco a smile and said sweetly, "Chase is in Bulgaria right now."

Draco looked very put-out. 

Hermione was pleased to death. "So sorry, I refute your offer because a) I would never let my child travel with you b) I don't want my child to be tortured and c) he is out of town anyway…oh and d) all of the above."

Draco's expression darkened. "Now I had a very long fight with my daughter about this one. Bring your kid home from Bulgaria right now and send him to me!" he said angrily.

"Can't do that. I don't have custody of him for the next three weeks. He's visiting his father."

"Well get custody!" Draco snapped.

"You're being a useless little tart, you know that?" Hermione said amicably.

"A tart? In case you didn't know, _Hermione_, men aren't tarts," he said irately. 

"Exactly!"

"Mother of Merlin," he sighed. "You're beyond hopeless. Anyway, my daughter is adamant about this. She actually insisted that you and your son both come along with us, but I didn't want you to. I'm sure you understand."

"Perfectly," she replied, although she was slightly envious. It was a beautiful offer, really. She'd wanted to go to Spain, and for Chase to have a friend would be awfully nice. Now if only Draco Malfoy wasn't there, then everything would be perfect.

"Look, I'm willing to let you come," he said in a rush, "if you just let your son come as well. Ugh, I hate to say it, but please. I don't give a flying rat's ass about you or your son; but I do unfortunately have a smidgen of feeling for my daughter and her heart is set on this. For Ivy's sake, just come along and you can go disappear in the bushes. Leave your son, though."

"Why, thank you for that kind suggestion," Hermione retorted, although her heart was quite melted by the line "for Ivy's sake". Damn that man! Using his child to his advantage! Oh, damn him, damn him, damn him! 

"For Ivy's sake," he repeated. His words were nice, he was not. Which option was she supposed to take? She did not in Merlin's name want to go spend any extra time with Draco but if it made Ivy happy… and Chase would be pleased beyond reasonable expectations (and he _had_ seemed cross this morning, hadn't he?) … and the kids would just be so happy! And she could just disappear; just come into the villa to sleep—didn't have to talk to Draco at all… it wasn't that bad, was it?

Hmmm. "All right," she said with a small sigh. "I'll call Viktor."

A/N: Well, how was that? I'm back on track- although I still have a smidgen (cool word!) of writer's block for this one. Next time: what will Viktor say? Is he willing to let Chase go? Is Draco going to re-think his offer? What about the kids? All this and more… tune in for the next exciting chapter of TCA. Well anyway, please review this chapter, it would make me feel much better about this stupid writer's block thing!


	5. Preparations

The Child's Atrocity 5

A/N: Well, here we go again. I'm back, I suppose, for the story. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know what to write, any ideas would be appreciated and don't worry I'll give you credit. But here's my attempt to steel myself into writing something. Two and a half months have to account for something…

Draco fumed in his favorite arm chair, waiting patiently for Ivy to come home from a friend's house. The things he did for his child! He had just signed himself up for a vacation with a woman that he detested and a sure to be annoying little boy. Finally Ivy burst through the door and made a beeline for her father.

"Did you do it?" she demanded impatiently. "Can Chase come with us to Spain?"

Draco clenched his fist and sent his daughter a stern look. "Perhaps."

"Daddy," Ivy continued. "That's so vague. Could you get any vaguer? Honestly. I want to know if Chase can come or not!"

"Ivy," Draco began grudgingly, "Chase is a boy of your age… thirteen. Boys at thirteen are dangerous sex-crazed animals. The only reason he's your friend is so he can take advantage of an opportunity like this! He's going to wait to get you alone and then he'll take advantage of you! I refuse to let that happen."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Please, Dad, and Grandpa's handing out lollipops now, too."

Draco did have to chuckle. To imagine Lucius giving lollies to little wizards on the streets of Hogsmeade was comic, indeed. Lucius, who was under house-arrest for the rest of his life? Not that he minded. Malfoy Senior's mansion was a wonderful place to live anyhow. "All right, all right, so I did invite Chase and his… mother… along to Spain. But I didn't get a definite yes. Now go away, I'm trying to read my paper."

Ivy laughed. "I knew you would. You've never been able to properly say no to me!" And with that she skipped off to her room.

Draco felt his blood boiling. Maybe he _was_ too lenient… bugger. He'd have to work on that.

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Hermione had frantically been trying to contact Viktor for the last half-hour, since that scum Malfoy had left her house. Unfortunately he didn't seem to be at home. Probably had taken Chase out for a night out with the Quidditch team…

What was she doing, wanting to take Chase out of Bulgaria? She was putting friendship in front of his family! Chase loved Bulgaria, loved Viktor, loved Quidditch… and she was trying to get him out so he could come spend some time with a _schoolmate_? A schoolmate he saw most months of the year?

And a schoolmate with an awful father, to boot!

Then again… she remembered how much Chase would love this, too. And he could visit Bulgaria later in the summer; perhaps… and perhaps she could have some bonding moments with Chase over in Spain…and ignore Malfoy completely…

Oh, dear. She really had to make up her mind. She couldn't shilly-shally in either direction; she had to be decisive. Damn it! Where was Viktor when she needed him? In desperation Hermione sighed and called him up on a muggle phone she'd insisted on when they were still married. She doubted he'd even answer… after four rings she was ready to hang up but right before she did she heard a click and a gruff, "Hello?"

"Viktor?" Hermione asked unnecessarily. Of course it was Viktor.

"Herm-own-ninny? Do you need something?" he asked in his thick Bulgarian accent.

"I… look, Viktor, I need to speak with you and Chase, in person. Can I Floo over?"

Viktor sighed. "Of course."

The line went dead and Hermione smiled bitterly. She'd forgotten to teach her pureblooded ex-husband how to use the phone properly, including telephone manners. Oh well. Minutes later she found herself in Viktor's spacious home in Bulgaria. She smiled as she remembered many happy memories here and some not-so-pleasing ones as well. Pulling her mind out of the past, she turned into the living room and was relieved to see Chase and Viktor waiting for her.

"Mum, what is it?" Chase asked anxiously. "Don't tell me you missed me _that_ much!"

Hermione gave her son a warm smile. "Viktor, I'd like to speak with you for a bit before I involve Chase." She motioned for her son to leave the room and grumbling, he headed up to his room. "And no eavesdropping!" she called after him.

Viktor grabbed his wand and performed a simple spell to prevent their son from doing just that. "I hope this is not anything serious," Viktor said, giving her a pointed look.

"No, no, I know I've made it out to be a huge deal. I'm sorry. It's just… I was hoping I could take Chase back for the next few weeks. I'll send him in another three or four weeks, I promise," she rushed quickly through the words, not daring to see Viktor's reaction.

Of course he was terribly confused. "But why?" he kept asking. "Why would you want this?"

"I have to take him to Spain. One of his classmates is going and she's invited him along and… I'm going too simply because I don't trust him to be safe without me," she responded feeling really rather uncomfortable.

Viktor looked bewildered. "I don't know," he finally said. "I am not so sure, not sure that you take Chase from me and bring him back."

Hermione sighed. "Of course I'll bring him back. He's just as much your child as mine. Do you expect me capable of one of those kidnappings done by one of the parents?"

Viktor smiled uneasily. "No, of course not. Very well, take him."

With a small leap Hermione threw her arms around her ex-husband and pulled away looking pleased. Then she remembered she was now set for a three-week trip to Spain with her old … ugh. "Thank you so much, Viktor. I'll call Chase down."

Chase bounded down before his mother could even call. "I didn't hear a thing," he moaned in disappointment.

"That's because your father put an anti-eavesdropping spell on the upper ward of the house," Hermione smirked. "Anyhow… listen. I hope you don't mind, but is it okay if you come home for a bit?"

Chase, too, looked bewildered. "But why?"

"We're going to Spain with Ivy and her father," Hermione sighed.

Chase's look of confusion melted into that of jubilance. "Really? Wow! Yes I'd love to, Mum! But wait… what about Dad?" Hermione looked over to Viktor who shrugged.

"It's fine. You can come back after your trip," Viktor explained.

Ten minutes later, after Chase had packed (or, rather, his wand had) and said goodbye to his father, Hermione and her son were back at home. "Well," Hermione groaned, "I suppose I'll have to inform her father that we are indeed going to go with them."

Chase barely took notice. "I'm owling Ivy, Mum," he called back and soon disappeared.

Hermione was owling Malfoy in the kitchen. After much hesitation she decided to write him a polite little note. It was difficult, but she tried to manage, nonetheless.

_Malfoy_- she began… or was that too reminiscent of schooldays? Should she say Mr. Malfoy? No, too formal. How about D. Malfoy, then. It would have to do.

_D. Malfoy-_

_I am writing to inform you that my son Chase and I will be able to accompany you and your daughter to Spain for the next three weeks. Please inform me of the details of the visit._

_Thank you_

_- Hermione Granger_

There. That was quick and to-the-point, not to mention slightly impersonal. Just the way she liked anything concerning Malfoy.

With a last deep breath she called in the family owl and sent off the letter, wondering if and when the spiteful man would reply.

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"Ivy! Start packing _right_ now! You know we're leaving soon!" Draco called up to his daughter, remembering numerous occasions on which she would forget that 'cute blue dress that I bought last week' or 'those shoes that simply match with everything!' and make him buy her new ones.

"We're not leaving for a week!" she hollered back. "And I'm not packing a thing unless you tell me whether Chase is coming or not!"

"You and your damned Chase," he muttered to himself. "If Granger's son is anything like Granger…"

Ivy, who had been coming down the stairs at that instant, happened to have impeccable hearing. "I heard that," she chided her father. "Chase is just spiffy and I don't understand for words why you are so dead set against his mum! You just met the lady a few days ago; honestly, she can't have sent off such bad vibes in such little time, could she?"

Draco sighed. "No, of course not. I'm sure she's a…er, lovely, woman."

Ivy grinned. "She's quite pretty… she could be gorgeous if she tried, no? Go buy her some sexy clothes from one of the many stores your company owns! Ooh, why don't you date her? You need someone around. Aren't you tired of being single?"

Draco's expression hardened. "You are grounded," he managed to choke out. "Go. Room. Right now. Weepy, activate grounding charm!" The doleful looking house-elf followed a steaming mad Ivy upstairs and Draco watched them with unwavering anger.

Silly little girl! Quite pretty! _Granger_? Ha! As if! As pretty as a mountain troll with damned bushy hair! How dare his daughter suggest he go… canoodling round with Hermione Granger?

Well he had certainly taught her. _Now_ who was calling him lenient?

At that very instant an unfamiliar owl swooped down into his living room and he pursed his lips in displeasure when it hooted and nipped his hands gently. "Trixie," he called out to another house-elf, "take care of this owl please."

Turning his attention to the letter he scanned the contents. Well then, he'd managed to convince the woman in question. She wanted to know details, eh? He hastily scribbled out a response, not even bothering to get the niceties of his stationary. Wasted on her, they were.

_H. Granger-_

_We are leaving a week from today the 30th of June. I will be traveling by port-key because it is easier than Floo in this case. Please arrive at my house promptly at 3:00 p.m. I have the port-key scheduled for 3:15. Do not be late. I will not wait for you._

_Draco__ Malfoy_

There. That sounded…well, a bit harsh. Just the way he liked things concerning Granger. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of willingly inviting her into his home; something he wouldn't have dreamed of as a teenager.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"I hope you've got everything, Chase," Hermione snapped. Her mood was a bit off at this whole prospect of actually vacationing with an old nemesis. "Because I'm sure as hell not coming back here for a thing. Good Merlin, it's already 2:49! We'll never make it to the Malfoys' on time!"

Chase rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, since flooing takes _so_ long! Anyway calm down mum, I've got everything."

Hermione checked her own suitcase and sighed at the contents. She had nothing nice and pretty to wear, only stiff work clothes or workout clothing. No sexy summer dresses or heels, no cute purses or fancy makeup… and truth be told, Hermione was missing such things. She'd experimented of course in her early twenties but for the last twelve years her life had just been so darned _practical_!

What wouldn't she give for a little 'fun in the sun'? Perhaps this little vacation was a needed one. She could go shopping and enjoy the luxuries of Spain. Perhaps she'd even go visit Morocco for a day or so. Then again she wasn't entirely sure she trusted Chase alone with Ivy and her despicable father.

"All right then, let's go," she said, and stepped into the fire first, shouting Malfoy Mansion at the top of her lungs, wondering what to expect.

The fire led to one of the Malfoy foyers and of course Hermione was swept away at the magnificence. Refusing herself to be wooed by a building she turned a blind eye and searched for Malfoy. Ah, there he was, leaning against a wonderful wood carving. "You're here," he stated blandly.

"Astute observation," she remarked coolly. "Where is this port-key of yours?"

"Where is that son of yours?" he asked nonchalantly. "I'm sorry but he's your ticket to Spain. There's no way I'm dragging you along just for the fun of it. If you thought that way, I'm sorry, I do have that effect on many women, but I just detest you too much to take you on my vacation."

Not even noticing his insults, Hermione spun around and was dismayed to find that Chase wasn't there. "He'll be here," she replied confidently and sure enough he popped out of the fire a few minutes later.

"Sorry, choked on the ashes," he muttered, looking embarrassed.

Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione moved towards him menacingly. As if on cue, Ivy bounced into the room, a plastic cup in hand. "Well, here you go, Dad," she said, handing it to him.

"That is your Port-key?" Hermione asked unbelievingly. "How…plain."

"Just like you," Draco mouthed so that the children wouldn't hear. Of course they picked up on it anyway, but neither adult noticed. "Gather around it," he commanded, and the four of them touched it and were soon yanked by their navels to the exciting country.

Oh, well, Hermione thought nervously, here goes nothing…

A/N: I hate this chapter! I'm not even kidding. It's short and boring but hopefully it got me back on track. I am going on vacation soon so I won't be able to update for a bit but please tell me what you thought! Thanks!


	6. Childhood Bonds

The Child's Atrocity 6

"Well…so this is your villa, huh?" Hermione asked with interest, surveying the large and comfortable looking villa. It's vanilla scent and rich colors set off a very Spanish and very nice appeal.

"Yes. If you've any complaints you are more than welcome to leave," Malfoy replied sardonically.

She hated that slimy little… loser. She really did. So what the hell was she doing on vacation with him? What was she doing here? Oh, yeah, it was all for the kid. She was sacrificing too much for that boy…

But she might as well be honest. "No complaints, Malfoy. Where's my room?"

"Some guest you are," he muttered, but led the way to her room, which happened to be right next to his.

"I'd rather not be in such close proximity…" she began, but he gave her a wolfish smile.

"You're welcome to have the couch in the living room, Granger. If you haven't noticed, this is my vacation home. It's only got four bedrooms. One for me, one for you, one for Ivy, and one for your son."

"Where are their bedrooms?" Hermione asked inquisitively.

"You ask too many questions," he scowled, but nevertheless led the way down a different hallway and into two children's bedrooms, one evidently done for a girl and one done for a boy.

"I had the house-elves clean this place up," he smirked, waiting to see her reaction.

To his disappointment, the outrageous yelling and screaming didn't happen. Instead, Granger's features took on a sad look and she sighed. "Poor things. I just wish…but no one ever listens."

"Pity," he clucked happily.

----------------------------------------------------

Ivy gleamed at Chase. "I'm so glad we pulled this off. I thought it would be impossible."

"I know, considering the fact that my mum absolutely detests your dad," he laughed.

"And vice versa," Ivy giggled. "I did my research, did you?"

"Of course. I'm not her son for nothing. Apparently they've known each other since they were eleven. He was in Slytherin; she was in Gryffindor."

"He hated her friends; she hated him because he hated her friends so much. And he called her the M-word."

"He did?" gasped Chase. "How awful!"

"He's changed," Ivy reassured hastily. "I mean, I've never heard him use the word. Maybe it was the first time he heard it or something, and he wanted to try it out."

Chase looked dubious. "Okay, well, let bygones be bygones, I guess…Okay, what else? He was head boy in seventh year and she was head girl. Didn't get along at all. In fact she wouldn't spend the night in their joint suite, ever. Always slept in the Gryffindor dormitory."

"He was jealous as hell of her good grades," Ivy smirked. "Asked my grandpa. He freaked out when I informed him of this and said if he wasn't under house arrest everyone better watch out. But he can't move, poor guy."

Chase snickered. "So basically… it comes out to…they've always hated each other. Well, that's obvious, from the way they're behaving now. Do you think they know that we know?"

"I dunno. I told my dad your mum seemed awfully nice and he should go out with her," Ivy giggled.

"He didn't like the idea, did he?" Chase asked worriedly.

"Of course not. Don't worry, Chase, it's going to be fun and harmless. The worst thing that will happen is that they'll get incredibly upset with us. But what's new?"

The children laughed diabolically and decided to go out and explore.

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Hermione was pretty sure Draco wasn't exactly about to give her a tour of this place, so she took one by herself. It was pretty large and roomy. She particularly liked the living room; it was cozy with a nice set of books in the corner and a large sitting area.

She sank into a couch and pulled out one of the books. Finding her groove, Hermione eagerly began to read.

Draco entered his living room and found his blood boiling at the sight of Hermione Granger relaxing on _his_ couch and reading _his_ book. He knew it was really silly of him to get worked up over something simple, but it irritated him to no end that she was enjoying the pleasures of his house. Childishly he decided to disturb her.

"Hermione," he stressed gleefully, knowing she probably hated him calling her that.

"Malfoy," she replied coldly, not even looking up from her book.

"How did you find the house?" he smirked. He was pretty sure she hated to be disturbed when she was reading and therefore this was a perfect opportunity.

"Lovely. You really do know your style," she mumbled, still not looking up from the book.

"Hey, Hermione," he said in frustration, and grabbed her book, "no reading allowed."

"Excuse me?" she scowled, annoyed, and he finally felt good.

"Yep. You. Can't. Read. _My_. Books."

"You selfish prat!" she exclaimed. "I would think that after all these years, especially after having a daughter, you would grow up a little, but I'm horrified to find that you are still the same arrogant prick that you have always been!"

"I'm hurt, Hermione," he grinned, his mood getting better and better. "Truly devastated. In fact I think I'm going to need some alone time. So move."

"Fine!" She got up in a huff and stalked towards the door. "I'm going shopping!"

"Hey!" he called after her. "Take Ivy too! I hate shopping and she likes it…so…"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What makes you think that I would do you a favor after your rude display earlier?"

"This is for Ivy," he pleaded, smirking to himself. Women could never resist children.

And he was right. "Oh, all right," Hermione snapped. "We won't be back soon, so don't even bother. And why don't you take Chase somewhere, too? It would only be fair," she grinned.

Drat, Draco thought miserably. Why was he so rash sometimes?

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"So, Ivy," Hermione began placidly, wondering what kind of child Ivy was, "you like shopping?"

Ivy nodded. "Yeah, I enjoy it but can't go often… dad won't let me go with other people and he hates it, so…"

Hermione laughed. "Your father is so overprotective," she smiled. "I never would have thought that he would have turned out that way."

"So you knew dad then?" Ivy asked with a smirk reminiscent of her father's.

"Knew?" Hermione's expression turned dark. "Oh, believe me, I knew him. He was your average teenage boy… mean-spirited teenage boy…although; I must admit my opinion is biased, because we didn't get along well. He seemed very…mischievous. I'm sure he made a good friend," Hermione said warmly; her attitude of there's-something-good-about-everybody even applied to Malfoy. And after all, she was talking to his daughter, she had to be nice.

Ivy giggled. "Yeah, he's the loyal type of guy. OH, ZARA! I LOVE THAT STORE!" she yelled suddenly. "It's the best store ever!"

Hermione laughed again. Ivy was truly amusing. "Okay, Ivy, no need to yell…anyway," she frowned, "I thought that Zara was a muggle store?"

Ivy smirked. "That's what you think, eh? No way. They have totally cool stuff in there. Enchanted t-shirts and these adorable cute short skirts that always ruffle…and the latest robes, just in case you're a traditional robe-wearing witch," Ivy hastily added.

Adaptations of muggle-like clothing had become all the rage in the wizarding world. Of course, the pictures on the t-shirts moved and the clothes might glow different colors and the shoes might be enhanced with short-distance flying mechanisms, but still, they were takes on muggle clothes. "Oh, no," Hermione reassured her as they stepped into the well-lit store, "I'm not traditional at all."

Together they went through mounds of singing shorts and flashy skirts and even plain old glowing shirts… as well as the sexiest in robes and stilettos. "Wow," Ivy grinned. "You have a good sense of style; how come you don't wear these kinds of clothes?"

Hermione smiled sadly. "I'm too old for it," she explained.

Ivy's eyes lit up. "Look, I know the best store ever, for people like you. Trendy and modern, but still works for people in their…how old are you, thirties? It's great. Come on!"

First they headed to the counter so Ivy could make her purchases and then exited the store and went straight into a brick wall. Hermione soon found that said brick wall was a lot like platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross, because they just went on through. "Here!" exclaimed Ivy. "Dolce and Gabbana!"

"That's a designer muggle brand," Hermione remarked, confused. "Don't tell me…it's not muggle after all," she grinned.

"Actually, Dolce was the wizard, Gabbana the muggle. They have separate branches. Come on," she dragged Hermione into the store and shoved her into the hands of a saleslady.

"How can I help you ladies?" she asked demurely.

"Can you get her some fashionable clothes?" Ivy smirked. "Just do what you want. I'm going next door, okay, Ms. Granger?"

"Call me Hermione!" Hermione called back in response.

"Will do!" came Ivy's yell as she exited.

As Hermione tried on outfit after outfit she decided that Malfoy's daughter was much sweeter and much nicer than her father. She was a nice, normal teenage girl… nothing like her father.

Nothing at all like that heinous, heinous man.

Well, truthfully, he wasn't all that heinous. He wasn't exactly evil incarnate. And he had maintained a damn good figure (something she was _not_ jealous of… okay, she was. Desperately).

"Buy this one," the saleslady was gushing. "It is so stunning, darling."

Hermione glanced in the mirror. It was an ordinary, floral print dress with an uneven hem and a dipping neckline (although it still looked very elegant and not risqué)… but somehow, it did become stunning. "It is," she breathed. "It's so…normal, but it's still beautiful!"

She smiled as she walked out of the store, having bought said floral print dress along with other elegant creations to update her wardrobe. The first mission of her vacation had been accomplished. "Come on, Ivy, let's go," she called as she stepped out of the store.

The younger girl bounded up to her. "Okay, I bought three pairs of shoes. Dad won't be too mad, will he?"

Hermione had to chortle. "Depends. How much did they cost?"

"200 galleons," Ivy looked down, and at Hermione's astonished expression, hastened to add, "But they were so cute!"

Hermione shook her head and mumbled something about glad-it's-not-my-money. "These are the times," she enforced firmly, "that I am glad I have borne a child who takes no interest in shopping."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco didn't know how the Hermione-and-Ivy bonding session was going, but the Draco-and-Chase bonding session didn't seem to be going well. Namely, he couldn't think of a thing to do with the boy.

"So," he asked for the third time, "what do you want to do? We can do anything you like."

Chase looked bored. "For the twelfth time," he exaggerated, "I don't care. We can do anything you like."

"You're lying," Draco said in amazement. "When I was your age, I would surely not have hesitated to tell you exactly what I wanted to do and exactly how I was going to do it."

"Well," Chase began timidly, "er, I've always wanted to do this one thing…"

"Well, what is it?" Draco asked impatiently. He was seriously getting tired of this.

"Mum hates it, so please don't tell her…"

Draco smirked. This made it even better. "Just spit it out, Chase."

"Can we go to a proper Quidditch game?"

Draco's jaw dropped. "You're telling me you've never been to a proper Quidditch game?" he gasped. "But…"

"I know," Chase said miserably. "Okay, I have gone to a few with my dad… but he's always playing in them, so it's not like the real experience 'cause I always feel obligated to watch him."

Draco sputtered. "Your father plays Quidditch professionally?" And then as an afterthought, "You're Viktor Krum's son. Heh."

"Yeah, well, so what?" Chase looked angry. "Every time I mention that people all say the exact same thing. Oh, can I have his autograph? My dad's so bloody old now; I don't see how anyone could still be interested."

"He was awfully good," Draco explained. "All right, come on. I happen to know that a Cannons v. Beaters match is on today."

Draco felt strangely excited as he quickly secured a portkey to the game (just a few calls to the Ministry had done it; boy, he loved having connections). It had been a while since he'd been to a Quidditch game; he usually went to a few when Ivy was at school because Ivy was not interested in Quidditch. He didn't know how she could not be. Quidditch was in the Malfoy blood!

And Lisa Turpin had liked it.

But he'd rather not think about her, otherwise he might hex anyone in close proximity. Tugging Chase roughly he bought them tickets in the top box and sat down. "Here," he handed Chase his omniculars. "You can use them, since you've never really seen a Quidditch game without your dad."

"And of course the school ones," Chase added.

"Well, those don't count," Draco started… "Wait, you are on the Quidditch team, aren't you?"

Chase looked down and Draco could see he was very, very touchy about this subject. "Aren't you?" he repeated.

Chase shook his head. "I tried out for the team, and I mean, I got in and stuff, I'm supposed to be a Seeker… just like dad, I guess…but mum wouldn't let me."

"Are you kidding?!" Draco was truly dumbfounded. "How could she not let you be?"

Chase became angry. "Because she's bloody scared of Quidditch. Doesn't mean that I am. I'm just so…sodding mad!"

Draco cracked a smile. Sure, he wasn't going to let Ivy get away with cursing, but another kid? Especially Granger's kid? No problem. "So do it anyway and don't tell her," he suggested.

Chase looked dubious. "You don't know her… she can find things out really easily. That would be crazy difficult." Just as Draco was about to agree that Granger did have her sneaky, sneaky ways, Chase continued, a whole lot brighter, "Hey! Maybe you can… talk to her, right? She likes you, doesn't she?"

Any thoughts that Draco had previously had were wiped off. What the hell? "She does not like me," he scowled fiercely. She better not!

"Of course she does, Mr. Malfoy," Chase reassured.

"Draco," Draco said, irritated. "Call me Draco. And she hates me. And you better make sure she hates me!"

Chase smiled infuriatingly. "I don't think she can help the way she feels. And if she doesn't hate you, she doesn't hate you. She'll listen to you… please let me play Quidditch next year! Please ask her. Please…Draco."

Just to get him to shut up and enjoy the game, Draco muttered a grudging "maybe" and diverted his attention to the game. As the professionals played, Draco constantly kept up an educated chatter, showing Chase the Wronski Feint and other such amazing moves. When the game was over, Draco was surprised to think that he had really enjoyed it. Nothing like enjoying a good game of Quidditch, even if it was with your enemy's son.

He was nothing like his formidable mother.

Nothing at all like that boorish, boorish woman.

Well, truthfully, she wasn't _that_ boorish. She had been polite, and…hey, she didn't look that bad. And maybe with new clothes she'd look downright…he hated to use the word, it was demeaning…okay, hot. He didn't care if he demeaned Granger. At all.

As the game ended, Draco motioned to Chase. "Come on, let's go," he began. "The ladies are probably waiting."

Chase snickered behind him. _Oh, yeah, Ivy, this is going to be a lot of fun…_

A/N: I hope this chapter was much better than the previous. Thanks for your reviews. I hope to make this a short, cute fic that's hopefully at least halfway through, but we'll see. I never stick to my plans! Anyway, thanks, and tell me what you thought of the chapter.


	7. Truth and Trouble

The Child's Atrocity 7

A/N: I **really don't like** this fic. I can't help it. Bah! I get loads of ideas all the time, but it's like my muse has run completely dry for this one. I always have to push myself to write it; for the others, stuff just comes out naturally. Ugh. Moving right along… let's hope the chapter goes well.

When Hermione and Ivy tumbled into the villa after an exhausting shopping experience (Merlin, Hermione sighed, she _was_ getting old… since when could she not keep up with a shopping maniac?), they were surprised to find it empty.

"I s'pose that Chase and Dad have gone some place or the other," Ivy casually remarked as she proceeded to litter the once immaculate drawing room with her new purchases. "Oh, aren't those the cutest shoes? They look even better in the light!"

Hermione, on the other hand, was a bit worried. It wasn't that she didn't trust Draco Malfoy with her son… okay, it was completely because she didn't trust him. "Oh," she said worriedly, a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach, "where do you think they could be?"

"Dunno," Ivy shrugged. "I'm going to go put these away… and seriously, Hermione, don't worry about them. I'm sure they're perfectly fine. Honestly, Dad trusts you with me, and I'm the proverbial apple of his eye. I'm serious. Don't laugh!"

Hermione had to, however. To imagine that the spoiled little brat boy at school had grown up to be a caring father was truly an interesting spectacle. "All right," she smiled at the young girl, "go put your things up. I'll get dinner started."

"Oh, about that," Ivy explained, "Dad just sends out since he doesn't cook. We don't bother bringing the house-elves on vacation; we're not that dependant on them!"

"But I cook," Hermione insisted, "and I intend to do so. Have you any ingredients in the house?"

"Sure, everything's in the kitchen," Ivy shrugged. "Well, suit yourself. I dunno if Dad will be too happy, though."

"Good," Hermione mumbled to herself as she made her way over to the kitchen. "Because if there's one thing I love, it's pissing Malfoy off…"

Hermione decided on making something a bit elaborate—or something that she hadn't tried before. This would take her mind off of her son's absence. She was amazed to see a variety of cookbooks in the kitchen shelves; there were dishes from all over the world. In a spurt of creativity, Hermione decided on Bolivian fare for dinner—something she had never eaten before.

Preparing the _picante__ de pollo_ and _palta__ rellenos_ (spicy chicken and stuffed avocados) took up a good chunk of the evening, and Hermione made sure that her dishes looked exactly like the pictures in the books. Just as she was applying the finishing touches on her creations, a sprig of parsley here, a twig of cilantro there, a familiar voice carried over the villa's cozy rooms.

"Mum!"

"Chase!" she cried in relief and ran out of the kitchen, blissfully unaware that she looked a mess.

---

Draco watched in semi-annoyance as Hermione Granger toppled out of _his_ kitchen wearing _his_ apron and with _his_ flour smeared across her face. He refused to acknowledge that she sparkled with health… and even though she looked messy, with bits of frizzy hair coming loose from her ponytail, she looked…he couldn't describe it. It wasn't sexy or beautiful or hot… and at the same time it was all those things, but in a different way.

In a woman-in-her-thirties way.

After Lisa, Draco had always gone for a younger woman. Ivy knew nothing of the sort; he made sure that during the months that she was at home he wouldn't entertain any female houseguests. Draco had felt that dating women in their twenties was sort of an escape from his life. Sort of a way to get over Lisa, to get over the fact that he was one of the very few single parents that existed in the wizarding world, to make himself look younger.

It was easier, anyway. Of course they were always willing, as well. He knew he looked good—making him a rich, dashing older man that many women dreamed of. But right now, as he stood here in front of a woman who was clearly over thirty as she embraced her son and listened in delight and horror (hah! He'd caused that!) over Quidditch, he could feel the maturity practically vibrating from her.

And he liked it.

It was actually rather nice.

And had it been any other woman except Hermione Granger…he might have done something about it.

But it was still Hermione, and they still didn't get along. In fact he rather hated her, the bint! "Well, what have we here," he drawled, effectively interrupting their moment.

"You took him to a Quidditch game!" Hermione looked up at him with an accusatory glare.

"He had a marvelous time, didn't you Chase?" Draco remarked casually.

Chase nodded excitedly. "Yes, oh, mum, it was just amazing! The way those players do the moves…the Wronski Feint, I'd never seen anyone do it so well...maybe that's because you won't let me watch Uncle Harry…"

"You won't even let him watch?" Draco asked in horror.

"He might get ideas," Hermione protested defensively.

Draco shook his head in surprise. "I can't believe you. I swear I remember seeing you at the Quidditch World Cup a number of times!"

Chase stared at his mother in shock. "You?!"

Hermione opened her mouth furiously and then snapped it shut. "I never prevented you from watching—just from playing!"

"So how come you never let me watch when Uncle Harry plays?"

"You know he'll let you play with them. And I won't have you doing that; it's dangerous."

"_Good God!_" Draco exclaimed. "I cannot believe you! Chase, please leave the room for a moment… actually just go upstairs and do something with Ivy. I've got to have a chat with your mum."

Chase ambled off, shooting another glare at his mother. Draco also turned to the woman and scowled deeply. "You are ridiculous," he chastised angrily, "for not letting your son play. Heavens, it's in his genes for Merlin's sake, you can't just turn that away!"

"And who are you to tell me what to do?" she snarled.

"I'm not telling you what to do… nobody can do that," he rolled his eyes, "with your ferocious temper! I'm just telling you what you should do, and that's to let your son play on the Quidditch team! I mean I am just astounded that you wouldn't let him! And I thought you were somewhat rational!"

"And I think you're completely irrational as well!" she yelled back, "The way you have your daughter on a short leash is just absurd! Poor girl is so attention starved no wonder she went through all this trouble just to have a friend come along! You're just an overprotective PRAT!"

Feeling even more enraged now, Draco held nothing back, "and you're just a stuck-up conservative mudblood! No wonder you're divorced, I can't see how he could stand being close enough to conceive a child with you!"

Hermione's face had gone white, and Draco knew instantly that he'd crossed the line. Crossing his arms in front of his chest he stared back at her. He was sorry, but he wasn't about to apologize to her. "No wonder your wife left you," she spat venomously in a rather quiet voice.

This threw Draco off. He hated when anyone brought up Lisa; it was the one subject that everyone knew not to touch. "Get out," he growled. "Get OUT. I don't care where you go. Just leave my sight."

She made no response as she walked towards the stairs. And then when she reached the bottom of the stairs she turned around and in a sweet, perfectly normal voice called over, "Dinner is on the table. Tell the kids to come down and tell them that I won't be joining you."

Draco felt humbled and humiliated at those words. He would never have thought to keep up appearances for the children—and here she was, deep in the throes of anger, and she still remembered the kids. "Chase, Ivy," he called, his voice hoarse from the shouting, "come down for dinner."

A few minutes later, the three of them were assembled on the table, staring in interest at the dishes in front of them. "What are they?" Ivy asked curiously.

"By the looks of it… a chicken dish, and stuffed avocado," Draco told her. "It looks delicious."

The three of them tucked in and the children commented on how tasty the food was. Draco was appalled and amazed all at once. Never had he heard Ivy admit that her vegetables tasted, well, good. "So you liked it then?" he questioned.

"Loved it," Ivy grinned. "Why can't you cook like this?"

"I can have the house-elves learn," Draco considered, "to make other types of food. I do have loads of recipe books… I'm sure you can find similar dishes you'll like."

"Mum loves cooking," Chase provided, making Draco feel even guiltier. Here they were enjoying the food that she had made… and she was probably upstairs packing her bags. Suddenly he wasn't very hungry anymore.

"Well, I'm through. You two put the dishes away when you're done. No magic."

"But… Dad!" Ivy scowled fiercely. "Why?"

"Because I said so, that's why," Draco replied in a formidable manner. Both children knew it was best not to argue with him in such a mood, and they let it be.

It would be worse if they performed magic and the Ministry of Magic found out. Ivy wasn't sure if her father had put up the magic wards like he did in Malfoy Manor.

Draco stormed off, feeling horrible and angry at Hermione. How dare she bring up Lisa? How dare she…she…make him feel differently about women his age? How dare she just leave him in the middle of an argument?

Oh, he'd asked her to. He felt very small and very juvenile. He retreated to his room and slammed the door shut, not coming out again till early the next morning.

----

Hermione considered packing her bags and leaving. Although she didn't like to admit it, Draco was very capable of caring for Chase and she didn't need to be here to protect him. Chase would probably have a fantastic time and come home glowing. Hermione could go back home and enjoy herself.

But she couldn't bring herself to go. It wasn't that she wanted to stay anymore. It was just that as a rule Hermione Granger didn't walk away from things. She just didn't. So she'd have to stay here and stick it out no matter how difficult it would be. Well, if she didn't speak with Draco Malfoy then things should be okay…hopefully.

How could he insult her like that? The divorce with Viktor hadn't been messy…but the words _were_ true. She _was_ paranoid about Chase's safety. She _was_ a little bit selfish when it came to her work. Before Chase had come along she'd always put her career before Viktor.

It hurt that Draco Malfoy had assessed her correctly. It hurt that when he'd said she had a ferocious temper, it was true. Another reason why her relationship with Viktor hadn't survived. She'd always put work first. Work, then Viktor.

She knew now that she hadn't been ready for such a committed relationship at that age. But she was older now… and she'd wanted to turn back to the dating scene, maybe just a little. Hermione hadn't had a proper boyfriend since they had divorced; she had had small flings while Chase was away at school.

With a choked back sob, Hermione slid to the ground, for the first time letting herself cry. She hadn't cried when she'd gotten divorced. She hadn't cried when she'd been dumped over and over again by men who'd claimed she was too wrapped up in work to give a damn about them.

But now, after Draco First Class Jerk Malfoy had so openly told her everything that was wrong with her, she sobbed.

---

Chase and Ivy were in his room, sitting on the bed and slightly distressed. "Did you eavesdrop?" Ivy asked worriedly.

"Of course," Chase answered easily. "But what I heard wasn't good. It was a full-fledged fight… they called each other some really awful things."

Ivy looked upset for a moment then bounced back to her cheerful demeanor. "Well, then, this does make things harder for us… but it'll more fun in the end!"

"I suppose," Chase looked unsupportive. "I don't know, Ivy… setting up our parents just because we know they'll be pissed off doesn't sound that fun anymore."

"Oh, come on," Ivy shrugged, "nothing will come of it. It's just harmless fun. So they'll have a few more fights… hey maybe they'll learn to respect each other, or something like that. Then they'll get mad at us and all will be well. It sounds like a fun summer plan, come on!"

"I guess you're right," Chase agreed. "Okay, what's the next step? First step was getting them to appreciate each other… I guess you could say we kind of did that. Kind of, being the key word. They didn't seem happy this evening."

"Minor setback," Ivy blew it off. "Your mum totally loves my dad's parenting style and vice versa. Your mum loves me and I'm sure Dad had a brilliant time with you; after all, I could care less about Quidditch."

"Yes, your father did seem to enjoy himself," Chase commented. "Hmm. All right. What's next?"

"Let's beg them to take us somewhere…and then go off by ourselves. It'll be like a date for them."

"What if they kill each other?" Chase answered looking apprehensive. Apparently he had inherited this from his mother.

"They won't. They'll be in public."

"You're on."

-----

The next morning Hermione woke with dry tear stains on her face. But that was the only remnant of last night. Now she felt calm and relaxed, comfortable even, as she stretched languorously in her bed. Of course bits and pieces of her blow over with Draco came back to her, but she decided to try and put it behind her. She knew the only way was to act civilly towards him; perhaps avoid him altogether. Yes, that sounded good.

With a small sigh Hermione rose from the bed and spent the next thirty minutes in the shower and getting dressed. When she was done it was eight-thirty and time for breakfast. She slipped downstairs, wondering if the children were up yet. Probably. Chase was never one to spend his mornings in bed and knowing him he'd make sure that Ivy didn't sleep in either.

However when she reached the breakfast table Chase and Ivy were nowhere to be seen. A certain Draco Malfoy was, however. As much as she didn't want to speak with him, she was awfully curious. "Where are the kids?"

He looked up—he'd been reading the newspaper and apparently hadn't noticed her. "Oh, I think they went outside. Something about how the weather was only cool enough to play outside in the morning—gets too hot in the afternoon."

"Oh," Hermione glanced around the room quizzically. "That's odd. I thought they'd be lazing 'round."

Draco shrugged. She supposed he wasn't really ready to talk to her either. Pouring herself a cup of coffee Hermione sat down at the table, looking over at his paper. The headlines caught her eye. "Wait," she found herself saying, "What's that on the front about Harry?"

He plopped the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in front of her. "It appears that Wonder Boy's gone and donated a huge sum of money to the war victims."

Hermione grinned. "How absolutely sweet of him!"

"Oh yes just lovely," Draco commented sarcastically. "Why that's such a big deal, I don't know. It's not as if other wizards don't donate to charities."

"I know… but this _is_ Harry Potter, and he was pretty much a leader in the war against Voldemort," Hermione explained gently, trying not to irk him. Honestly the last thing they needed right now was another argument.

"You know," Draco suddenly said, looking awfully uncomfortable, "I'm… I'm…pissed off at Potter," he finished up lamely.

Hermione knew that wasn't what he had planned to say. "No, you're not. Well, maybe you are, but then again, you always are," she conceded, "but you wanted to say something else. So say it. You know that you can tell your enemies more than you can tell your friends—same goes for strangers. Somehow, it's just easier."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't need you to give me words of advice," he snapped without any real malice. "Look… I just wanted to say that…er, I'm, er, sorry about last night. I shouldn't have been so harsh."

Hermione couldn't help the sneaky smile that stretched across her face. "What's this?" she teased. "Draco Malfoy…apologizing to little old Mudblood Granger?"

He looked pained. "It's not that big of a deal," he muttered, "and don't call yourself a mudblood. I said I was sorry."

"Why shouldn't I call myself a mudblood?" Hermione looked him straight in the eye. "After all that is exactly how you perceive me."

He scowled fiercely but didn't say anything for a moment. Then finally he spoke. "Listen. I tried to apologize, if you want to be cruel about it, then suit yourself. I shan't say another word."

Hermione giggled. "Only teasing," she shrugged. "You can't take a joke?"

"No. I can't."

"Well," Hermione turned serious, "I'm sorry as well. For that thing about Lisa."

Draco sighed. "I shouldn't have reacted like that…it's just…oh, never mind. Where shall we send the children today? You can go off and explore and I'll stay here."

"No," Hermione said simply, "we're having a conversation. You've got to tell me what you were about to say. Like I said it's not like I'm about to hold it against you. We already have low opinions of each other…I doubt they'll go any lower," she smiled wryly.

"You're being civil to me," he also smiled bitterly. "I'd never have imagined."

Hermione waited for him to finish.

"Well…the reason that I blew up…it's just that—I've never opened myself up to anyone except for one person. And…she ended up breaking my heart."

A/N: I know. A crummy place to stop (I do hope all of you knew who he was talking about! Lisa, if you didn't). See the reason I'm giving you all a cliffy (ouch) is because when I look over this in a few weeks I'll be like, "oh no! what happens next!" and then I'll be forced to write more to satiate my self. So cliffies help me too.

I don't feel as bad about this fic now that I've written it. It took me a while…I started the beginning of this chapter a long time ago! Thank you all for your lovely comments! They just make my day!

Hey…wanna make my day? (That means…review!)

Omg, on another note, has anyone seen the Saturday Night Live--the very last one of this season, Jimmy Fallon's last one and the one with Lindsay Lohan? They made fun of Harry Potter and I nearly peed myself laughing! Lindsay was Hermione and she came out in this low cut thing that totally showed her boobs and shes all like, "so lets work on the spell" and Harry and Ron were like "Hermumumumumuhhhh...you...grew..." it was just hilarious. fred&george came in too and they were like "uhh excuse me we got to go "beat some bludgers" and Hagrid was like, "uhh I gotta go 'tame' my dragon"...LOL! And they even had Snape come out and be like, "wow?! Hermione?! Call me Severus!" Too bad they didn't show Draco sighs...mmm I'm still up for the whole Hermione-turns-evil-and-gets-with-bad-boy-Draco thing. Anyway, yes, that was the most amusing thing I saw today!


	8. A Scheme

The Child's Atrocity 8

Draco got up so hurriedly he nearly knocked over a chair in his clumsiness. He strode from the room, trying to appear strong but inside gaping at himself. Had he really just admitted to someone he barely even knew…someone he didn't care for _in the least_…a secret that his own daughter didn't know? Had he just admitted that Lisa Turpin had had an _effect_ on him? Nervously he swallowed as he walked out of the villa with a bang. The morning sunshine was bright, warming him to the core—for he suddenly felt cold.

He hated Lisa Turpin. It almost didn't even register that she was Ivy's mother; he never thought about that bitch. His hatred for Lisa was deeper than his hatred for anyone else. Deeper than his hatred for Potter or Weasley or any of the people he'd disliked at school. He hadn't spoken with Lisa in seven years, and he was glad of it. Bringing her up made him so angry that sometimes he lost control on his magic…and blew things up. Feeling like an adolescent, Draco tried to calm himself and walked back inside, deciding to pretend that he hadn't just revealed a very raw part of himself.

Hermione was still sitting at the table, staring off into space. She didn't even acknowledge him when he walked in.

"I think I'll go to the beach," he told her shortly. "I'm sure the children will want to go, so I'll take them." And as an afterthought, perhaps as a consolation prize for not knowing his deep secret (note the sarcasm, he told himself), he added, "You're welcome to come."

He really hadn't expected her to take him up on the offer. "Okay," she said simply, and his expression soured. He didn't want to see any more of her, he really didn't. She was making him do things he hadn't done before…like open up, like talk. He hated it!

Hermione left to go tell Chase and Ivy to pack up for the beach, while Draco went upstairs to get some things. He magicked everything he needed into a basket and then shrunk that so it fit into his shorts' pocket.

"Are we all ready?" he descended the stairs coldly.

"Yes! Ohh I love the beach, I'm so glad we're finally getting out of the house," came Ivy's voice. "You'll love it Chase the water's sparkling blue."

"Are there sharks?" Chase asked excitedly, and Draco had to crack a grin. Boys. So different from girls!

"You shan't see any, but you might see a grindylow or something" Draco interrupted. "Now come on, let's go."

The four of them Flooed over to Ibiza, where there was one wizard beach establishment. "It's a great beach," Ivy exclaimed with a sigh of pleasure. "Come on Chase, let's go."

Draco watched with amusement and horror as the two children took off. He turned to the woman next to him, who looked worried. "Don't be such a worrier," he told her sullenly. "You are always worrying."

"And as if you're not?" she retorted with a glare. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm about to read. Don't interrupt."

Of course. Hermione would read. What else _would_ she do on a beach? God forbid she'd get out and actually tan or something? No; she'd read, read, read. He…oh, she was infuriating!

Not even answering, Draco went down many yards so he was as far away from her as possible. Now that he was here, he might as well work on his tan (not like it would work. He was ridiculously pale).

Really.

Hermione actually didn't want to read. Here she was at a beach and she didn't want to read. What was wrong with her? With a sigh she glanced over at Draco, a few yards away. She didn't know why but she really wanted to talk to him. She wanted to find out more about his elusive past and his current anger towards it. The kids…where had they gone, anyway?

She decided to be mature.

She'd be the one who went over there and talked to him.

So putting down her book delicately, Hermione made her way over to where he was relaxing. "I think," she began slowly, "that we need to call something of a truce."

He sat up, really rather quickly. "What?!"

"A truce," she repeated firmly, cautiously sitting down next to him. "We need a truce. I cannot have us bicker in front of children."

"Speaking of," he growled, "where are those two?"

Hermione shrugged. "I think Chase mentioned something about exploring the length of the beach…I do hope they don't go out in the water too far," she added worriedly.

"Don't worry," Draco told her condescendingly. "I know that Ivy is smart enough to know that going out too far is dangerous with all the underwater creatures. I'm sure she'll explain it to Chase, if he's being rash."

"My son is _not_ rash," Hermione argued, faintly annoyed. "See what I mean? We have to stop just… bugging each other about things like this. Draco, we haven't seen each other in many years…" Hermione trailed off, not believing that these words were coming out of her mouth. She didn't like him at all. When had she decided to be mature about this whole thing? It was kind of nice, actually. "Maybe this time," she finished, losing some of the fervor she had started with, "we can actually…not kill each other."

"Maybe," he said tersely, shrugging. "I doubt it."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly."

"I'm being honest. I do not think it'll work; you and I don't get along and we won't get along. Now I'm trying to relax." After seeing Hermione's glare, he grudgingly added, "you're welcome to stay here."

"I think I will," she snapped back, lying down just a few feet away, and promptly falling asleep in the warm sand.

"You know," Ivy motioned to the adults, "I'm beginning to think it won't work."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Chase said smugly. "Only you wouldn't give up."

"This rivalry between them must've gone really deep," Ivy lamented. "They didn't even do anything. I thought at least we could get them horribly mad at each other, but no, your mother had to go and call a truce, and my father stupidly agreed."

"He didn't agree," Chase pointed out.

"Yes he did," Ivy argued. "My dad will never straight out agree to anything, but I could completely tell he agreed and he'll do anything to keep the truce. For _our_ sake. God! I really want to know what happened in their past! Why do they hate each other so much?"

"Dunno," Chase shrugged. "My mum never mentioned it. Maybe it had something to do with her friends—Harry and Ron."

"Harry Potter?" Ivy raised an eyebrow. "He came up a few times in History of Magic, he's in the history books and everything, and my dad said he knew him and found him to be dastardly high-headed."

"He's like my mum's best friend," Chase seemed surprised. "And I know him awfully well. He's really quite nice; he isn't high-headed at all."

"I suppose that that's where the dislike stems from," Ivy realized wisely. "They just disagree over Harry Potter is all."

"You're right," Chase conceded. "How childish of them! It's so stupid!"

"I know," Ivy nodded her head in accord. "they're being really dumb."

"Let's take them out to a sit-down dinner," Chase suggested, "and then you and I can cop-out half way through. They'll have to get along somewhat."

"They'll be so mad," Ivy cackled gleefully. "Can't wait. I'll suggest La Amiga de Marisol. Dad loves it."

"Okay," Chase started up towards them. "Let's break up their little siesta, shall we?"

"Yes of course," Ivy jumped on the idea and the two children made their way down to where Draco and Hermione were peacefully asleep.

Draco felt someone shaking him awake and he mumbled incoherently, until one particular voice became very clear. Ivy. Of course. Grumbling he sat up and frowned. "What? I don't want to be disturbed!"

"I'm bored," Ivy shrugged.

Draco could not have been more annoyed. Shooting her a look, he raised his hands to the heavens and sighed. "Merlin. We brought along a friend along with some, ah, _extra_ _baggage_, and yet you claim boredom? I think not! Go play with Chase!"

"But I don't wanna….ooh, I've a brilliant idea!"

"Oh, Gods, Ivy, not another brilliant idea. Your last brilliant idea got me stuck with…" he pointed at Hermione who was still asleep.

"Please don't be rude," Ivy chided. "I think the two of you get along fabulously. It's evident she likes you, Dad."

Draco sputtered. "Ivy, are you serious?" he asked faintly. To suggest such a thing was sacrilege! "You must be kidding. Surely you have enough common sense to see that Chase's mother and I really don't get along?"

"It's a farce," Ivy smiled nonchalantly, and Draco was astounded.

"It's not a farce! Are you joking? We've never liked each other. We just don't…click."

"Au contraire," Ivy grinned now, looking positively cheerful. Draco shuddered. "I'd like to think that you and Ms. Granger – Hermione – only disagree because you had one person between you."

"And who, pray tell," Draco countered sarcastically, "could this one person be?"

"Harry Potter," Ivy crowed triumphantly. "You didn't like him, Hermione liked him, and that's where you guys began to argue! Am I right?"

"Why would you care so much?" Draco tried to switch tactics but it was all in vain. It seemed like his daughter was bent upon this conversation—something he really, truly, didn't want to have. "And Harry Potter, I've told you, is just a stuck-up little orphan prat!"

"Daddy! Such language!" Ivy teased with a wink. "And you wonder where I get it."

Draco grimaced but didn't say anything. Sometimes he let his temper get the better of him…

"Anyhow, I believe that you and Hermione never really disliked each other, you just didn't get along because of your friends…or enemies, in your case, Dad. Think about it. Anyway I want to know all about it; I suppose you were all schoolmates then."

"There's nothing to know," Draco told her shortly. "Nothing at all."

But as luck would have it, Hermione would choose that very instant to rise and rather languidly too. "Mmm," she stretched, and then Draco watched it register on her face that she was sleeping right by Draco and Ivy.

"Er, am I interrupting anything?" she asked worriedly.

Ivy laughed. "No, nothing. In fact you'll help me out."

"How so?" Draco noticed that Hermione looked suspicious. Good on her, he thought reasonably. She had every right to be; Ivy was conniving as hell and Chase probably was too.

"Well, Dad and I were just discussing his schooldays and you both went to school together, no?"

"Well, yes," Hermione looked bemused. Draco grinned. Time for her to suffer a bit under the scrutiny of a thirteen-year-old-inquisitive-little-monster!

Er, very nice and lovely monster, too.

"And you and Dad weren't friends?" Ivy prompted.

Hermione laughed. "I'd say we were far from friends," she conceded. "We didn't get along because he didn't like my friends very much…and he was a bit rude and immature," she shot Draco a mean little glare, which Draco immediately returned.

"Oh, tell me about it! Tell me why you didn't like each other," Ivy smiled.

"Er, Ivy," Draco eluded the question, "where is Chase?"

"The little boys' room," Ivy brushed the attempt aside. "Now tell me all about it."

His daughter looked pointedly at Hermione and Draco fought the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. Let Hermione endure the bright limelight of Ivy's questions, thank Merlin.

"Well," Hermione began, looking rather awkward, "er, your father and I didn't really get along because we were in different Houses, and … umm…he was a bit mean."

Draco didn't want to elaborate but he knew he had to. "Well, she was very stuck-up and snobby. Always going on about how smart she was."

"I did not!" Hermione gasped.

"You so did," Draco told her grimly.

"Well, you were a first-class prat! Calling me such dirty names and bothering us so much!"

"Only because Potter was so bloody cocky!"

"He wasn't cocky at all; I don't know what you're on about! And you have to admit you were ridiculously rude!"

"So maybe I was," he bit back, "but it's not to say you weren't. You slapped me, you little…" he trailed off as he noticed that Ivy was watching with hungry eyes.

"Er, yes," she mumbled, also having just noticed they had an audience. "Sorry about that."

"Well then, I'm sorry about calling you names," he sighed. He had to act nicely for Ivy's sake.

"See now," Ivy put in her two cents' worth, "you've apologized for the past and you can move along. Now you both can get along marvelously and life will be wonderful!" she proclaimed optimistically.

"I don't think so," Draco and Hermione replied simultaneously, and then promptly shot each other ugly looks.

"See! You already think alike!" Ivy pointed out gleefully. "Anyhow, Daddy, I wanted to suggest La Amiga de Marisol for dinner tonight."

"I suppose," Draco told her grudgingly, "if you go somewhere else now. I've had enough of this conversation."

"Will do," Ivy agreed quickly and hopped off.

"The nerve," Draco muttered after her retreating back.

"I know, children," Hermione piped up from his side, looking sympathetic. "That really was awful, wasn't it? Twenty Questions from a child, no less. But it was awfully cute of her, I must say!"

"Cute?" Draco disagreed. "I'd hardly say so. Cute! Cute would be if she drew a butterfly in the sand or some girly thing like that. She was harassing me! Harassing us!"

"Oh, by gods don't take it so seriously. So you had to apologize to me, so what? You were setting a good example. And I'll have you know," Hermione looked straight at him, and when their eyes met he felt a bit funny, in a peculiar, not unpleasant way, "that I meant my apology. Your daughter's right. We aren't being mature about this in the least. And I did suggest a truce earlier…"

"Fine, I agree!" he spat. "It seems I cannot get any peace here at all! I came to escape and instead am roped into a truce with my mortal enemy and my own daughter turns against me!"

Hermione laughed. "You are being overly dramatic. I am by no means your mortal enemy and your daughter hasn't turned against you."

Draco chose not to answer. He felt childish and didn't want to act his age. "The kids are playing," he said dully. "Aren't you worried Chase will fall over and get a scratch?" He said it sarcastically and bitingly.

To his dismay Hermione did not get riled up and start yelling at him. Instead she was quiet for a moment, and then—"I've been thinking about that," she replied stiffly, "and I think you're right. I am…a bit overprotective about it. I'll let him play Quidditch from now on. And…I was wondering…" she trailed off.

"Yes?" Draco asked tiredly.

"well… if you'd be…if you'd do me a favor," she finally gushed out.

His instinct was to say an automatic no, but he deliberated and decided to give it a chance. "What?"

"Well, if you could maybe take Chase out for…er, a Quidditch game. Let him play with you." She looked hopeful, attractive even.

"Sure," the word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I mean," he corrected, "that might be a possibility."

"Oh, thank you!" Her face broke out into a huge smile. "I really appreciate that and I'm sure Chase will just love it!"

Chase gestured over at the parents. "Ivy," he said seriously. "things have just taken a major turn."

"I realize," Ivy smiled demurely. "And do you know why? Because I instigated it. They're very cool now, they're definitely going to get along. Hah! So fun!"

"wait…that's not the fun part," Chase disagreed. "The fun part is when we set them up and they get so hopping mad!"

"It will come in due time," Ivy promised. "right now they have to realize that being in each other's company isn't a picnic with the Devil. And I think they just have. So part one is complete."

"And moving on…" Chase grinned evilly. "Oh, God, we're awful. My mum would kill me if she knew."

"But she doesn't! And she won't!"

If only Draco and Hermione knew how mutinous their children really were!

A/N: I'm sorry. The wait was long. The chapter might not be top-notch. I'm trying, I really am. Doing my best and I know I haven't uploaded anything in forever…well, here you go. Enjoy, I hope. And please, please review! I love them and they help a ton with writer's block.


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